


Roses in December

by Allekha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Amazon Position, F/M, Flexibility, Hook-Up, Nostalgia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Divorce, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 03:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: After Yuri's GPF win, Lilia celebrates with Yakov and finds that he still has most of his old flexibility.





	Roses in December

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt: Any F/M, Amazon position](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/344797.html?thread=2002476253#cmt2002476253)

This was, perhaps, not the greatest idea; but Lilia drank to celebrate little Yuri's win, and then she drank while catching up with Yakov, and it didn't feel like such a bad idea afterward.

It was her first real conversation with Yakov since the divorce, the first that wasn't about skating, or the banal talk of everyday life necessary to living together. Odd, given how it was nearly a year already since she'd made him move in, but even after all their time apart, all the time not really talking to each other, they'd fallen into an easy flow together. Yakov listening attentively as she told him of her work in Moscow, a vacation she'd taken to China last year; Yakov's face softening as he talked about Victor playing nursemaid through a bout of flu, a visit from a niece whose name she barely remembered.

She wasn't drunk, not really, just enough that everything was a little fuzzier and warmer now. The lights were too bright when they left the dim bar, and the hallways of the hotel too quiet. There was a look on Yakov's face when they reached his room and he turned to bid her good-night.

Lilia wasn't sure what that look was, but it felt like a good idea to follow him in. It felt like a good idea to take the implied invitation to lean into the warmth of his body, and it felt nice when they kissed, the lights still off. It had been a long time since they'd last done this, and there was something nostalgic about it – his hands on her waist, gentle, the way he smelled. Yakov remembered how she liked her kisses, too, not too much force or tongue, and it felt better when she pushed them together until no space remained.

Something more than nostalgia had her pushing him toward the bed. It had, honestly, been a while for her in general, and she'd never had much reason to complain about the sex back when they'd been married. Yakov was no longer quite as slim as he had been, once, and she could feel how much deeper the lines in his face were even before one of them found the light by the bed. But his hands were the same, going to the places where she liked to be touched as he helped her out of her clothes, and she was already thinking of what else might be the same as she helped him with his.

She had seen him doing stretches, a few times, since he'd moved in. Once, she had secretly stopped to watch him working through them in his bedroom, hidden behind the door as he folded himself down against his legs, then against the floor. He still had good form. Toes pointed, arms rounded. He was no bendy little nymph, but he was much more flexible than almost any other man his age.

The memory had her climbing on top of him, and she was pleased to see he remembered some things, too, judging by the way he almost immediately brought his knees to her shoulders. He raised an eyebrow, and she raised one back before straightening and shifting back along his abdomen. His legs made room for her, bending up. It was a good sight.

She stroked his cock a few times, feeling it finish hardening beneath her fingers. This hadn't changed, either; it was still very hot, feeling too big in her hand but never when it was inside her.

It took a moment to find the balance she needed when she leaned forward, legs tucked around him. Yakov helped, a hand back on her waist and the other on her shoulder. She could feel his stomach shifting when she splayed her hand open on it, his breathing picking up as she guided his cock into herself, the way his breath caught when she pushed down onto him all the way.

Yes. It still felt very good inside of her. _Just_ big enough, not too big, not leaving her wanting. She closed her eyes to simply enjoy it for a moment, then opened them again when she felt a hand in her hair.

She'd left it loose tonight, and it spilled all over them. Such a pain. Yakov carefully brushed it away, though, tucking it behind her ear, touching it softly. His face had eased again. She leaned forward to kiss him, shivering at the way her muscles clenched around him automatically, the way _that_ made him twitch.

They'd found this out, together, trying to figure out what two young and flexible people could do. Not so young, now, but she still liked to be on top, to see what was happening, to have control over the pace, and she liked to be able to kiss, and she liked having someone wrapped around her. Like Yakov, still touching her hair as they kissed, supporting her as she started to rock back and forth.

It was almost like old times again, making love in a hotel room during a trip. Maybe during the summer when they had some time for themselves, maybe during the winter with their younger students seen safely to their own rooms. Relaxing with each other after all the hurry-up-and-wait business of the day, interviews and student anxieties and fussing over appearances.

Yakov rolled his hips up as she rocked hers back, and the sensation had her eyes fluttering as her vision went for a moment. It was pure pleasure, spreading up her hips, and when she could see again, her clit throbbed between her legs.

He said her name. Quietly, not a moan. His eyes were fluttering, too. She eased his hand from her waist and pushed it down further, to touch her. The first brush of his fingers made her clamp her thighs even harder as though to keep them there, although there was no need; he kept touching her clit, if lighter than she would have liked. The hand in her hair could stay. It was nice.

She put a little more effort into her movements, and this time Yakov did moan. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, and he made another one when she adjusted her angle to better – there, that made her nerves light up. A noise escaped from her throat, too.

When had her breathing gotten so hard? Steady, still, but deep into her lungs. Her hair was falling forward again – Yakov was good enough to push it back, before he ran his hand over her head. That touch was still nice, but she wanted more attention elsewhere, and so she made a small movement of her hips to encourage him that had them both gasping.

It worked, too, and then she could hardly think, with Yakov thick and hot inside of her, filling her, the slide of his cock as she shifted on his thighs bringing her so much. And his hand – he certainly hadn't forgotten how she liked to be touched, either. Any hesitation or teasing from earlier was gone as he rubbed firm circles on her clit, driving her hips to try and circle, too, to follow the touch, even though they were already moving.

He pulled her into another kiss, the touch moving from her hair in order to prop him up so he could reach her. She let him have another, a third, pausing during the next to run her hands down his chest. There was still muscle under the skin, and it tensed when she found the same spots she'd touched so often during the decades of their marriage.

She finally tugged herself away when she couldn't stand to wait any longer, using a hand on one of his knees where it had slipped away for leverage before she put his leg back into position on his chest. Her inner muscles tightened around him when she found the good angle again, and her eyelids clamped down, too. She was so close. She could feel it like a buzz under her skin. An ache in her clit. Just a little more, another movement or two, no, not quite....

Then Yakov's fingers on her clit pressed hard, and she ground even further down, further along his cock, on instinct, and there, that was it: the orgasm came over her, and she rode it out to the last shivers, soaking in the pleasure of it.

Yakov was watching her when she opened her eyes again. Of course he was; there wasn't much else to look at while they were doing this. But it felt like more of a gaze than before.

And he was still inside of her, still hard, waiting patiently even though the little movements in his face suggested that he was close, too. So, when she'd caught her breath, she leaned forward again and started moving.

This time, he didn't brush her hair away, though the ends slid back over her collar and brushed his chest. He'd never found it as much trouble as she did. Maybe he liked it; she couldn't remember asking. If she didn't move her hands, then at least she wasn't pulling on her own hair.

She could feel him shaking, just a tiny bit, could feel his fingers digging into her skin. Now it was her turn to watch him; his face was older, but it still folded in on itself the same way as it always had when he was at the very edge, only to slacken when he came. She rode this out, too, moving with him as his cock thrust shallowly in and out of her.

When it was over, and both of them had caught their breaths, she very carefully pulled herself off of him, and very carefully levered her weight off of him and to the bedspread. It was very wet between her legs, but what bothered her more was the small protests of her joints as she stretched her calves. Her body was older, now, too, though it held together well enough. In the corner of her eye, Yakov pushed himself upright with just as much care as she'd used.

They spent a silent minute rubbing out their aches. Lilia suddenly felt exhausted. Her room was only two doors down, but she stared at her clothes on the other side of the bed and told herself that she wanted to put them on and walk there.

Just as she'd found the will to cross the bed, Yakov cleared his throat and pulled the covers back enough to fit two people, without saying a word.

Lilia considered it for a moment. She was already in the bed, and though she'd never been the biggest fan of cuddling, it _was_ nice to be held sometimes. That hadn't happened in even longer than sex.

Perhaps morning-her would think this was a bad idea. But if so, that was for morning-her to deal with. Lilia had no problem with taking the invitation to slide under the blanket, and after he'd turned off the light, moved closer to him. It wasn't the same as old times, when he'd murmur his good-nights into her hair, but that was fine; they weren't in old times anymore. It was warm, though, and it was easy enough for her to fall asleep.


End file.
